


Cool As

by radiantbeams



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Mob, Hitman Niall, Hitman Zayn, M/M, Meet Ugly (although they have met before I guess), Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 08:37:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14849408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiantbeams/pseuds/radiantbeams
Summary: Just a little Ziall "we're rival hitmen hired to kill the same guy and now neither one of us know what to do" AU for you.





	Cool As

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mediumrarechicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediumrarechicken/gifts).



> Hope you like it!

Recon really was the most boring part of Niall’s job. His left leg was practically vibrating from the perfect boredom and caffeine combination he had in his system. He groaned, forehead thunking against the steering wheel. It was approaching hour six in this goddamn car, the dead of night casting everything in indistinguishable shadow. He tipped the dregs of his lukewarm coffee into his mouth. The grounds were coarse and bitter on his tongue, making him cringe. He was a little peckish, could probably pop down to the 24hr corner store, where he’d gotten the coffee, and find something to eat. But, no. He had to stay here. Stay focused.

 

Just to be safe, he had started camping out early that night, intently watching the flat block for his mark to come home, and keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity. Niall had been observing him all week, and he rarely got back to his own flat before four. But he just wanted to be safe, really get the job done right. Mr. E, the guy who hired him, wasn’t someone Niall had worked for before and he wanted to give a good first impression. Mr. E had a reputation to pay quite a bit of money and to keep people on a sort of retainer. Niall wasn’t about to let a little laziness cost him a shot at regular work and a nice paycheck.

 

Sure enough, the mark came around the corner a 3:42am. He watched him make his way to the entrance of the building. Ideally, Niall would have made the hit out here, not exactly in the open but at least not inside an apartment. Apartments, living rooms, and office spaces seemed to be like magnets for fingerprints and blood spatter. Maybe it was chiché but back alleys really were the best places to do these things. They usually placed you already near a dumpster, easy disposal. But no, Mr. E wanted it done in the target’s own flat, with a gun. ‘ _Keep it clean. Can I count on you to do that?_ ’

 

As best he could from still in the cramped sedan, Niall shook himself out. He wasn’t one for acrobatics, unlike some other people he knew in this business. But it was always a good idea to start a job relatively limber, especially after sitting in a parked car for so long. He pulled on his gloves and flipped open his weapons case in the passenger seat. There were more in the boot, of course, and back at his apartment, and in a storage facility he kept out in west village. Running his hands over the choices, he grabbed a lock pick, standard Beretta, and a silencer. It’d be safer if he took more than that, but he said he’d keep it clean.

 

He hopped out of the car, glancing both ways before crossing straight over to the flat block. His boots made an ominous clapping sound when he walked. They were new, a gift from Louis’s girlfriend. She meant well, but they really had to go. Only if he walked very carefully and very awkwardly, would they stay quiet enough for what he needed.

 

Rounding the building, he approached the back door carefully, sliding along the side wall to keep out of the security cameras view. He flipped open his switchblade, which was, of course, always kept on his person, and reached up to cut the wire leading into the overhead floodlights. Niall kept his back to the camera while he picked the deadbolt. Even with the lights out, he didn’t want to take a chance.

 

This entrance led him right into the stairwell, which was unexpected but highly convenient. Most buildings were relatively intuitive, he never bothered with procuring blueprints, especially not for a single assignment like this. Keeping his head down, he navigated through to the flat directly above the mark’s. It was vacant, thank God, and Niall only had to break into the realtor lock box to get in. Realtor lock boxes were notoriously easy to break into. Honestly, someone should make it harder to do, give him a bit more of a challenge.

 

Once inside, he went straight for the balcony. He could just drop down to the one below and get into the mark’s flat that way, without having to worry about the fire escape. Fire escapes weren’t as great as the movies made them out to be as far as B&E went. They put you in a very precarious position, were usually rusty and made a hell of a noisy rukous going up. All around not worth it, in Niall’s opinion. If he had had more time to figure out the logistics for it, Niall would have feigned a delivery and got him at the door, since Mr. E so specifically said no alleyways. But this Rapunzel move, he still felt very clever for calling it that, would have to do for this time.

 

His knee twinged as he swung below, being careful to muffle his landing. There was a soft clang when he miscalculated where the glass picnic table was. He froze, heart thumping in his chest as he reached out to carefully steady to rocking ashtray. He couldn’t see any noticeable movement inside, just a flickering light coming from the back bedroom. Good. Letting out a long exhale, he shook his shoulders out again, stretching out his neck. He pulled the Baretta from its holster, screwing on the silencer carefully, as he used his shoulder to slide open the back door.

 

Doing a quick once through of the living room to make sure it was clear, he pad forward towards the bedroom. It was a nice flat full of sleek uncomfortable looking furniture, located in a posh neighborhood. Not that Niall ever really cared to know for real, but he would sometimes come up with wildly unrealistic reasons as to why he was hired. Most of the other hitmen he knew, because if you did this long enough you got to know people, didn’t talk about it. They liked to say coolly detached, keeping the marks as far from human in their minds possible. That didn’t really work for him, not really his style. Which he guessed was minorly concerning, as far as his mental stability went.

 

His thoughts were interrupted, just when they were getting good ( _maybe this guy had been Mr. E’s wife’s long time lover, maybe she’d go to his funeral, maybe she’d never know it was her husband who had him killed..._ ) by a soft sliding noise coming from the kitchen. It almost sounded like-- a window. What the hell?

 

Raising his gun defensively, he kept his back to the wall. He stepped closer to the kitchen, ears straining to hear any kind of noise. Just as he was about to stick his neck out around the doorway, a figure jumped out at him. It was a damn good thing Niall was good as his job or else he would have fired on sight and blown this whole fucking thing. He rocked back in surprise, pointing the gun at the intruder’s face. Kind of hypocritical to refer to them as an intruder seeing as they both were, but this was _Niall’s_ job.

 

When he peered around the barrel of the other gun, pointed in _his_ face, he scowled. “ _Zayn! What the hell?_ ” He whisper-screamed, keeping his defensive stance.

 

“ _Niall. Of course_.” Zayn whispered back drolly. He rolled his big dumb brown eyes and Niall hated him.

 

“I should have known it was you. Coming in through the fire escape, honestly, Zayn, I thought you were a professional.”

 

“I _am_ a professional, I just don’t go hanging myself off balconies like a fucking baboon.” He sneered.

 

They were both still stood facing each other, stances wide, guns drawn.

 

“How’d you know about that?” Niall asked skeptically, sliding his foot back closer to the mark, trying to get ahead. The the TV was on in the other room, noise filtering out under the closed door.

 

“It’s your signature move, Horan. And it’s not like you’d just walk through the front door.” Zayn followed his movement, stepping forward himself.

 

Niall raised his chin in a challenge. “I could have.” He insisted petulantly.

 

Zayn scoffed. “Sure. Now get out of the way so I can do my job.”

 

“ _Your job?_ Hell no! This is _my job_.”

 

Zayn leveled him with a dry look. “Yes, we are both in the same profession.”

 

Niall rolled his eyes. “You _know_ what I mean.”

 

“Unfortunately, I do know what you mean. But still, _move,_ I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

 

“What could you possibly have to do at four in the morning on a Tuesday?” Niall asked, baking up another step, but both of their stances had relaxed slightly.

 

“I’ll miss the next bus out of the city if this takes too long.” He shrugged, eyes cutting to the closed door.

 

“Still not driving? That sucks.” Niall said, with genuine sympathy. He’d heard that Zayn had had a seizure a few months ago, leaving him without a license.

 

“I don’t need your pity.” He said with unnecessary aggression, turning up his nose. Defensive.

 

“It’s not-- I’m--” Niall let out a frustrated grumble. “I wouldn’t waste my time _pitying_ you, jesus. Just a bit of friendly sympathy.”

 

“Oh, well--”

 

Whatever Zayn was about to say was abruptly cut off when the mark himself comes out of the bedroom, holding the wrong end of a desk lamp up over his head like a weapon. Apparently at some point he’d turned off the TV while they were talking and heard them. Whoops. Both Niall and Zayn swung their guns over to him, shooting. Niall got him right between the eyes and Zayn through the heart. Interesting technique, Niall thought, most people went for the head. It was simply just more efficient. Zayn was always know for being _flashy_ though, in this business.

 

“Hm. Seems like that cleared things up.” Niall hummed, looking a the man on the floor blandly.

 

“We should probably get out of here.” Zayn said with minor urgency, looking over his shoulder to the kitchen window.

 

Niall nodded, putting his gun away and making a move toward the balcony door. He turned back to Zayn, who must have noticed Niall’s pause. He was still facing him, a curious eyebrow raised.

 

“Uh… Do you need a ride? I mean--” Niall pulled his sleeve back to look at his watch. “You’ve definitely missed the bus.”

 

Zayn sighed, glaring at him, no doubt for making him late. He couldn’t hold onto the look, though, a small smile peeking at the corners of his mouth.

 

“Fine, but I’m not pretending to be a fucking trapeze artist to follow you out. I’ll meet you downstairs.” He said, slipping through the window onto the fire escape. When he slid the window shut behind him, he sent Niall a little wink before he rolled out of sight.

 

It took Niall a minute to get his bearings back. Damn, Zayn may be a pretentious asshole, but he sure was pretty to look at.

 

Niall made his way back to his car the same way he came up. He was just getting into the front seat when a shadow startled him from the passenger side.

 

“Jesus, fuck! Stop doing that!” Niall shouted, slamming the door angrily behind him.

 

Zayn grinned at him, already ready and waiting for Niall to get back, safety belt on and everything. He laughed when Niall scowled at him and turned the ignition forcefully.

 

“What took you so long?” He asked innocently.

 

Niall turned up his nose. “Just being thorough, making sure I wasn’t seen.”  


“I think you’re just slow.”

 

“Oi!” He squawked in outrage, pulling away from the curb.

 

“I live on the other side of town, by the way.” Zayn said, throwing his thumb back to point in the opposite direction.

 

“I know. We’re getting breakfast first.” Niall kept his eyes on the road and willed his blush down from his cheeks. Why was he even blushing? This was stupid.

 

“Breakfast?”

 

Niall’s weak will won out, and he turned to face him. “I mean-- I always do, this diner-- But I mean, only if you… Want to?” God, just one look at him and Niall turned into some bashful schoolgirl.

 

Zayn raised an eyebrow, holding Niall’s gaze. “Would this be considered a date?”

 

“I-- Uh, I’m… Do-- Do you want it to be a date?” Niall stuttered.

 

“Yes, I do.” He replied flatly.

 

Niall thought his eyes were about to bug out of his face. “Then, I-- Yes, it’s a date.”

 

“Good. You have two more before I put out.” Zayn smirked, probably at Niall’s completely gobstruck expression.

 

Niall robotically turned forward again to focus on the road. There was a strained stunned silence in the car before Zayn snorted quietly.

 

“What?” Niall asked, smiling himself.

 

Zayn was outright laughing by now. “Nothing! I just-- Your face!” He continued to cackle.

 

“Shut up! Stop it! You make me very-- I’m very nervous, alright?” Niall sighed, settling back in his seat.

 

Zayn went quiet for a moment, and when he looked over he had such a soft expression on his face, Niall about choked. Zayn reached out a hand, squeezing Niall’s fingers for a moment before pulling away.

 

“You make me nervous, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated :)


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